That Which Never Was
by Balbina
Summary: Luna visits Harry Potter on his deathbed and voices lifelong regrets. Finished


**That Which Never Was**

Luna never asked his name. She had already known it. Everyone knew it. Sometimes, looking back, Luna wished that it would have been different, that she hadn't known his name – or anything about him at all. Then it would have been more real, a nobody greeting yet another nobody. But Harry Potter wasn't a nobody; he had _always _been a somebody. He was the Boy Who Lived.

Luna's introduction into Harry's life never had the chance of being genuine; it was simply filed way, tucked into the back of Harry's head like all the others – just another, "So, you're Harry Potter, eh?" And from then on, Luna was tolerated and put up with like the rest – but she was forgotten, really. She was forgotten like the nasty-looking sweater your mother bought you once and which does nothing but hang in your closet, collecting dust. Harry saw her occasionally, of course, and sometimes even acknowledged her presence. But because of her knowledge of Harry's legacy, Luna was denied the chance of knowing _him, _Harry as a boy, a teenager, a man.

Many decades later, when Luna was old and doddery, and the pink hue of life was already fading from her cheeks, she stood shakily in her front room with a formal letter in her hands. Harry Potter was dying, the letter informed her. His life was coming to an end, and Luna had been invited to say her last goodbyes. …It had been so many years since she had last spoken to him. He had married, of course, and he and his wife Ginny had had three lovely children, one grandchild on the way. Someone who was once the greatest hero ever known to the world, Harry Potter was now an old man very near to his end of days. Luna was almost surprised by his mortality – he had always seemed so indestructible. After all, he was the one who had finally defeated Lord Voldemort those many years ago. Therefore, Luna couldn't understand why someone so great would want to see her. She voiced this to him as she sat at his bedside three days later.

"You helped me so long ago," he responded croakily. His emaciated figure was lying very still on the hospital-style bed. "The Department of Mysteries, you saved Ron – and my dear Ginny."

His smile broke through into his voice, though it got lost in the many folds and wrinkles in his ancient face. Luna tried to smile back, even though she knew that Harry's milky emerald eyes couldn't see.

"But, you see," he continued breathlessly and very slowly, "I always wondered whether I ought to have gotten to know you better. Whether we could have been good friends."

Luna remained silent. She didn't know if he was being honest, or if this were merely the last-minute regrets of one balanced on the brink of death.

"You saw the thestrals, like me. Thought you were crazy, really, but I'd had to have been too, eh?" He gave a very wispy one-ha chuckle, then quieted. Luna tried to smile again, but it rather hurt her mouth.

Harry gave a huge, hacking cough. He was very pale when he finally relaxed back onto his pillow, and Luna wondered whether he was finally slipping away. But then he spoke again, though a lot quieter than before.

"If only I'd…bothered to…know you… Could've…been…" His voice trailed off, and his unseeing eyes fluttered shut. Luna rose slowly from the chair beside his bed.

"Yes, we could've been a lot…yes. We could have had spectacular adventures, fallen in love, had children… I did love you," she admitted quietly to the prone figure. "Oh, I did for so many years. S'pose I still do now, in a little way... We could have been a lot… If you had tried to know me more…and I had tried to know you none at all. Yes…the difference it would have made."

She gazed down at his still, unbreathing form in the sterile, boring-looking bed. His face, though so weathered from the long years, was still that of the famous Harry Potter. He looked so peaceful now, he may have been asleep. Luna finally beamed down at him. If only…

"Be at peace, good man. Have solace in that your battles are fought and done…you may rest now." She walked slowly to the door, mindful of her brittle bones. Then she stopped and looked back.

"Boy Who Lived…oh, how I love you. May you finally, finally rest."


End file.
